


Symmetry

by Annawry



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canonical Character Death, Character Death Fix, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Multiple Endings, Stasha if you squint, Steve returns the stones, The good the sad and the even worse, Vormir, though not in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18682888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annawry/pseuds/Annawry
Summary: There’s an ugly symmetry to it that makes sense. He stalks to the edge and stares down. He thinks, if he looks carefully enough, that he can see a smudge of black and red, still and cold by now. A soul for a soul, a sacrifice. He drops the stone.





	1. A soul for a soul

Steve waits, at the bottom of the mountain, with the stone clutched in his hand. He waits for what feels like hours, grief heavy in his bones, until a bright column of light splits the sky. He waits until Clint has the stone. Until Natasha is dead. And then he begins the arduous trek upwards, following in their footsteps.

He feels old in a way his body belies. He hadn’t truly understood what he’d be taking on when he strapped into the suit once more, stones in his possession, determined to bring the timelines back into order. Snipping the threads, Bruce had explained, making sure that the timeline returned to a single steady bright, unfrayed rope; As much as they could anyway. He has had to hide in shadows, watch and wait, choosing to stay his hand and deny his instincts again and again and again and Steve is weary beyond his years. This is the worst of them, this stone, this moment, this suffering he has stood by and allowed to come into being. The suffering he will ensure by returning the damn stone at all.

He climbs with his head down, shoulders bowed, achingly aware of what awaits him, though a black spectre isn’t it. He’s too numb to react with much surprise.

“The Stone is no longer-” It begins to intone and then stops, and Steve wants to howl when he sees its face, hysteria rising up in his throat. Red Skull looks just as shocked.

“I have it.” Steve manages to choke out, unfurls his palm to show the brilliant stone in his hand. “I need to return it.”

Schmidt points wordlessly at the path that continues upwards.

“Lead the way.” Steve snarls, sure as all hell that he’ll never put this asshole at his back, follows as Schmidt floats on ahead.

“I thought I killed you.” he mutters eventually and the swirling black cloth moves in something that might resemble a shrug.

“I would hardly call this living.”

“You deserve a lot worse.”

Schmidt glances back, and there’s something assessing in his gaze. “Perhaps you do as well.”

Steve grinds his teeth so hard his jaw aches. He has a mission though, simple and clear cut and the last part of it is almost done. He swallows down the anger and the sharp words and climbs until they reach the top, a platform that stretches out over a yawning abyss. Natasha’s body far, far below them.

“Will it bring her back?” he has to ask, this small last shard of hope he has been holding on to just as tightly as the stone itself.

“A soul for a soul.” Is all Schmidt says and Steve glares at him, hearing the amused finality in his tone, an unspoken no. It hurts more than he wants to admit to have that shard taken from him.

“Fine. How do I do this?”

He’s ready to hurl Schmidt off the platform when he laughs, mocking and cruel, but he waits out the amusement with bitter patience until Schmidt points and simply says, “Throw it.”

“If you think-!”

Schmidt interrupts. “I cannot lie, not in this. I am the Guide and must tell you what is required. Throw the stone. Or drop it off the edge. Either way, it must be sacrificed.”

It goes against everything in Steve to believe him, but there’s an ugly symmetry to it that makes sense. He stalks to the edge and stares down. He thinks, if he looks carefully enough, that he can see a smudge of black and red, still and cold by now. A soul for a soul, a sacrifice. He drops the stone.

And comes to in a dark pool of water, the mountain of Vormir looming high in the distance.  


	2. An old soldier given up

And comes to in a dark pool of water, the mountain of Vormir looming high in the distance. Not alone though. There’s a body in the water next to him. Black and deathly pale and still. And so cold when he touches it. When he picks her up and cradles her against his chest and rocks them back and forth and finally, finally gives voice to the rage and grief that he’s been holding down and holding on to. Wailing his misery to the indifferent sky and rocks at the centre of the universe.

Steve’s almost as cold as she is when he has nothing left, when everything inside of him is empty and hollowed out. Too cold to even shiver. He thinks, just for a moment, about laying her back down and of laying down with her. He’s done. Mission complete. The timeline as fixed as he can make it. He’s done.

But she deserves better. Better than a small flat lake of cold water with an old soldier given up beside her. Steve can’t give her life, but he can give her a better resting place than this. He can bring her home. He holds her closer, and activates his watch.


	3. The universe had, for once, been kind

And comes to in a dark pool of water, the mountain of Vormir looming high in the distance. Not alone though. There’s a body in the water next to him.

“Natasha? Natsha!” Steve lunges at her, pulling her out of the water as she coughs and seizes and for long endless moments Steve can’t breathe. He holds her gently against his chest and waits until she’s steady in his arms.

“Steve?” she asks into his shoulder, sounding bewildered.

He pulls back and cups her face, running clumsy, cold fingers over her cheeks and the sharp line of her jaw. “God, Natasha. God.” It’s all he can manage, pulling her close again and burying his face in her shoulder this time. Schmidt was an asshole; he’d lied or he’d been wrong, or maybe Steve hadn’t let go of that shard of hope and the universe had, for once, been kind. Either way she’s alive.

“Steve? Steve. Where’s Clint? Where are we?”

Steve shakes his head, he doesn’t even know how to begin explaining everything that’s happened, but Natasha huffs an irritated breath and slaps his side.

“Sit up, Soldier.” She insists. “I need a sitrep.”

Her unforgiving tone of voice makes him want to laugh, along with the giddy disbelief of a minor miracle. He does as he’s told, and smiles shakily at her. “Clint took the stone.” He reports. “We undid the snap, fought Thanos from the past and... won. We won. I’ve been returning the stones to the past and this was. This was the last one. God, Natasha, you’re alive.” He mumbles and gives in to the urge to press his forehead against hers, grateful that she allows him the contact and even reaches up to stroke a hand through his hair.

“That was a really shitty report. Terrible. Who taught you how to do that?”

 “Bucky.”

“Oh, well, that explains a lot.” she deadpans.  

He hates to do, but she needs to know. “Tony’s dead.”

Natasha goes completely still against him for several long moments. “Clint?” she asks again.

“Alive. Back with his family.”

Steve can feel her exhale very carefully, slow and steady. Her hand slides out of his hair and cups his jaw, and she tilts his head away until they’re both sitting upright and looking at each other.

“I’d like to go home now.” she says, and Steve nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go home.”


End file.
